Manual Stigmata
by Vixie1979
Summary: Esmeralda accidentally walks in on Claude. She soon finds out a deep secret that he wasn't prepared to share with anyone, let alone a gypsy. Will she let him suffer? Or will Esmeralda's over all humanity give in? If so, will Claude learn to trust her? WARNING: Self harm, blood and gore. Possible sexual situations in later chapters. Do not read if you do not agree with these themes!
1. Chapter 1

A/N This story is actually inspired by Cgal the Avenger's "These Violent Passions Have Violent Ends" story. It was the first fanfiction story I read that had mentioned any scars on Claude Frollo's back, due to abuse from his father and it just moved me. I loved the fact that it was acknowledged that he was a victim himself at a very crucial time in his life, which was childhood and how that physical, emotional and phychlogical abuse had very harmful effects leading to his adult life. I wanted to elaborate on this and add his own self harming by self-flagellation and this would denote emotional abuse as well.

Also, as some of you can already tell, I merely use Esmeralda to outwardly express my own fantasies with Claude Frollo ;) (As many fangirls do.) But like I've said before, I try to have situations make sense with the characters themselves. This one, I've just decided to jump into the subject. I've laid out a general idea on how Esmeralda discovers things. But, with an overall back story; just try to use your imagination on how Claude and Esme ended up together in this one. Think of it as a small snapshot of their relationship. I just needed to get this out, as it's been eating me alive inside!

Please review as well. Thanks…Enjoy!

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She accidentally witnessed this early on in their rocky start. She could never, from that night forth, forget the image and sounds displayed in the middle of his chambers.

Him on his knees.

The snapping of the whip against his flesh and the whimpering that followed.

The sound of an indiscernible Latin mantra, whispered under his breath, after every assault on himself.

The blood trickling down his nude backside, onto the stone floor, in small crimson puddles.

Esmeralda froze at the display and inhaled. She couldn't process what she was seeing. At first, she wondered if it was actually him and her delusion temporarily made her deny it. This wasn't the Claude she knew…the person before her had to be someone else. But finally the realization set in her bones and it chilled her.

She mindlessly lets out a small exhale and Claude goes stiff at the sound. He doesn't move from his spot and Esmeralda knew she was heard. She knew she was in possible danger of him lashing out at her, he seemed so unpredictable and unstable at that moment. She juggled with the thought of either just speaking or running away. She waits, but does so in a frantic stance.

Claude lowers his arm that held the whip, his knuckles were white from the grip he held, but he didn't let go. His breathing was shallow and Esmeralda could hear the faintness of small restrained cries trapped in his throat.

Both of them held there postures for what seemed like forever. Finally, Claude looked over his shoulder and met her gaze with a glare, but she saw tears. She found her voice, barely managed to get the question out due to the trapping of air in her lungs, because she kept forgetting to breath.

"Wha…what are you doing?" Her voice was just above a whisper, but there was genuine shock.

He didn't answer. He just stared over his defined shoulder at her, with those damp, angry, unreadable red eyes. The most dangerous stare in her experience so far in his presence.

"Tell me." She spoke with persistence in her words.

When he finally spoke, he turned his head away in a high prideful manner. His response was short, disconnected and emotionless.

"Leave me gypsy."

Anger rose within her at his mock elite attitude against her and replied just as fast as he ordered.

"No." She waited with a held breath.

Suddenly, a loud, slow, threatening and impatient exhale was heard exiting through his nostrils. She could imagine them flaring, like an angry bull looking for a glimpse of red to match the rims of his eyes. Esmeralda wondered if she had indeed miscalculated her place in this alien situation.

Her attention was thrown in over drive as Claude clumsily rose and she backed up ready to bolt. But, her stubbornness kept her planted in her spot. Even after he turned to face her, with the whip still in hand. She glanced quickly from his face to his fist and back up to his eyes once more. They were filled with a raw fury she hadn't seen before and she could hear the squeezing of leather against his palm.

"What did you say?" His voice was too calm and too low. It was a menacing tone, a tone she hadn't heard before. She still decided to stand her ground.

"I said, no." Her answer was firm and louder to punctuate her unwillingness to comply with his wishes.

Claude narrowed his eyes, clenched his jaw in anger and proceeded to move towards her. Esmeralda flinched and stepped back a few paces at his sudden pouncing. She didn't want to show him fear, she knew it would only feed his dominance. So, she moved forward as well and he faltered. Her abrupt brazenness made him lose his hold on the whip, it landed in a heap on the ground, next to his blood streaked legs and feet. She noticed this, instead of retaliating, she let her overwhelming need to help take over and it washed away any other questions.

"Claude, please." She begged softly, reaching out her hand to him. He shrunk back even more. His form was a complete hypocrisy to his normal body language of austerity. She could tell he was distraught, in pain and losing too much blood.

"Sta...stay where you are gypsy!" he ordered. The anxiety quickly commandeered over his anger every time she moved toward him.

"Let me help." She continued to offer and received a hiss from Claude.

"I don't NEED your help!" His breathing started to go uneven and he started to sway a bit.

She flinched, but stayed motionless. She was about a few feet away from him at this point and could see details of the condition he was in. His hair was in a disarray from sweat, his skin was pale, clammy, bloody, his eyes were still bloodshot, red and so weary. She knew from the look of him, he hadn't had any sleep. She even wondered if he had eaten recently.

Finally, Claude's legs buckled, he fell towards her and landed on his knees before her. Esmeralda took that opportunity to catch him, holding him up in a hugging position and he didn't fight her. She knew he was too weak. She lifted him to a standing position with the strength of her legs and shoulders, she threw one of his arms around her neck, encircled her arm around the small of his back and they both hobbled to his bed chambers.

Once they were near his bed, she gently set him on the edge and instantly his body went limp. He managed to keep his head up, but his body was swaying so much, Esmeralda had to place a hand on his right shoulder to steady him and only then was she able to look into his unfocused brown eyes. His lids went heavy, she snapped her fingers in his face and he blinked rapidly.

"Claude? Hey! Come on!" He tried to stay at attention. She snapped again and he looked at her coherently enough to instruct him.

"There isn't any other way I can look at your back, unless you lie on your stomach. Can you lift your legs?"

He gave a small nod, but when he attempted, he lost his balance and fell into her. She caught him, wrapped her arm around his neck to avoid his harsh back wounds, she looked down over his shoulder and saw that blood was starting to stain the blankets. He was losing a lot of blood and she was completely unprepared. But, it wasn't the first time she had cleaned or dressed wounds before and she was resourceful.

Claude rested his head at the crook of her neck, unable to move and at her complete mercy. After a minute or two she noticed dampness there and she moved her head a bit to find Claude's tear filled eyes. It startled her, she didn't know what to do, so she did the only humane thing she could think of, she comforted him. She also knew going into panic mode would only make things worse.

Running her fingers through his soft hair soothingly, she ended her careful stroking at the base of his neck, where his hairs were short and prickly against her fingers and palm. She repeated a few times until a small, helpless sob finally escaped his lips and she rested her cheek on his head.

"It's okay…" She spoke into his hair and reassured him softly. She hugged him to her for a short time and she repeated her actions once or twice over and he seemed to go calm in her arms.

He reminded her of a scared, lost child, nothing like the man she was used to seeing. Nothing like the man wielding his power by fear and authority. Nothing like the savior of Paris, upholding the laws with an iron grip. Then she realized, that the truth was right in front of her. His shield was down and she understood why he acted as he did earlier. He was in his most vulnerable state. She knew about that all too well herself, when pride would get the best of her and she wouldn't let anyone in. It was a state that she knew he didn't want anyone to see. But it didn't matter to her, she just wanted to heal his wounds and maybe through this he would confide in her finally. Judging by this, things needed to change.

Claude shifted and brought her back to reality. He tried to sit up, by pushing against her, Esmeralda helped him and he eventually ended up on his side. She was able to lift his legs as he sluggishly moved on to his stomach. It finally donned on her that he had actually been completely nude through this whole endeavor and she didn't even notice due to the urgency of the moment. Any other time, she probably would have been blushing furiously. Once he was settled, she grabbed a spare blanket on the bed and covered his bottom half, out of respect for his current state. She would concentrate on cleaning the rest of him after she was done cleaning and dressing his back. She needed a few things though, she was sure he had what she needed lying around the general area, but she needed to hurry.

She went to work on him and she winced. She couldn't believe how bad it looked. Blood oozed from some gashes and others looked as though they were drying. She could tell, judging by the darkened edges around some of them. Her hand reached her lips and her throat tightened. She kept in a sob, that threatened to release and her eyes glossed over. She reminded herself that she needed to keep it together.

Moving to the head of the bed, leaning towards his face. His eyes where closed, his breathing was slow and she knew that wasn't always a good sign. She scanned his features, he was even paler than before, if that was even possible for him.

She moved her hand to his cheek and ran the knuckle of her index finger softly against it. He roused with a jump, looking at her through unfocused pupils and in confusion as he blinked at her rapidly.

The face that looked back at her looked like someone that was ready to give up. A look that told her that he just wanted to end the suffering. Suffering no one ever knew about and it broke her heart. He seemed all void of hope for himself. But she had to do what was right and she was damned if she would lose him that night by her own hand.

Eventually, she was able to find all the materials she needed. In the process, she cleaned the area where he was caught standing. Wiping away the many drips of blood and removing the whip from its own heap on the floor.

Making it back to his bed, she laid all she collected in their proper places and started cleaning his wounds with a doused cloth of wine and she poured a handsome amount directly on his back. It seemed like most of the bleeding had stopped due to the dried blood caked on the surrounding areas. When Claude didn't react to her ministrations, it worried her and she couldn't tell if he was breathing by just watching his mid-section rise and fall, so she momentarily moved her hands to his face to feel if there was air exhaling through his nose and mouth. When she felt slight warmth coming from both orifices, she suspected that he may have passed out. So, she continued on him.

She had collected her mending basket in hopes to maybe stitch up some lashes. But, it proved to be more difficult after assessing the damage. She was afraid that his injuries would have to heal uneven. After she had closely examined his back, she came to the conclusion that he had done this many times before.

After clearing most of the blood around unbroken skin, she discovered older scars that laid under the new afflictions, they traveled down to the top of his buttocks and seemed to go deeper. She could tell they were old, by the color, she could also tell, just by the size, that these were no doubt made when he was younger…a child even.

In addition to these facts, she noticed that most were done horizontally, rather than vertically and this gave her the idea that someone other than himself had made them. She lightly ran a finger along the length of one of them and she teared up. It was never easy picturing Claude an innocent child and that's where her fallacy laid. She was ashamed at her under estimation. Tears fell free from her eyes and fell to an unknown origin. She stared at her finger, while it massaged the thin abrasion. Before she knew it, her lips were upon his flesh. She softly kissed the scarred surface, as another tear slipped free and landed on his back. She moved her head to the side, facing the upper part of his back, her tears blurred her vision and all she could see was red. She rubbed her cheek against his warmth and she sobbed quietly. Her tears grew in multitude, proceeded over the bridge of her nose and dampened his skin.

"I'm sorry…I'm so…so sorry." She managed to sob out in between small delicate kisses.

After a while, she regained her composure. She rose quickly, took extra cloth that was nearby and dabbed at her eyes and continued wiping away the rest of the blood.

Wrapping cloth all the way around his rib-cage, she was careful not to harm him in the process and tied an experienced knot in a place that wouldn't cause discomfort. She was satisfied that the fabric wasn't being totally saturated and only a few small stains made it through. She would check on it and change it if needed. She stayed at his side all through the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N TRIGGER WARNING: Mention of physical, emotional, and verbal child abuse. Please do not read if you feel uncomfortable.**

 **Please R &R! Thanks! :)**

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Claude opens his eyes to find his body supine and steadily being rocked by waves from an unknown body of water. The waves could be heard all around him, as they took their journey to an unknown shore. The water was pleasant, it was warm and it seemed to lull him. He observes that the waves sounded like low, slow and steady breaths. With every crash, an exhale was just below the under current. As he opens his eyes, he looks down to see the water was clear as crystal and he could make out his naked chest and stomach submerged in the water. The steadiness rocks him and soothes his muscles.

He looks straight up above and was met with an overcast sky. The clouds displayed a light gray, he could not see a hint of sun anywhere behind the gloomy surroundings, no rays broke through to kiss the waves and it was a dismal sight. Strangely enough, his feelings did not match it and the water seemed to put him in a calm. It was a calm he had never felt before, his worries, cares and pain were all a distant fog in his mind.

However, fear was present. It was ominous around him. It tries to seep into the darkest place of his soul. He dreads what the vastness of this sea held, but decides to close his eyes, let the euphoria penetrate his body and let wave after wave crash against him.

After a long while of entrancing silence, save the slow breathing of the tide. Splashes could be heard in the distance and it was moving closer to him in his place in the water. The louder the splashes got, the more anxious Claude became. He lifts his head to search for the source and worry over took him. He dreaded what he suspected was real and what was almost upon him at last.

The next splash happens next to his right ear and he jumps to a sitting position in alarm. He rubs the side of his face and frantically searches for the culprit. He scans the water and before he knew it, he spots a large eel swimming toward his leg. It would have easily brushed against him if Claude hadn't moved and for some unspoken reason, he didn't want these things to get near him. He felt threatened and intimidated by them. Claude quickly brought his limbs close to his body, he draws his legs against his chest and wraps his arms around them tight. He watches the creature move close and it slithers back and forth through the current with ease. Using its tail for momentum, it was like oil in the water.

Claude brakes his line of sight from the gilled predator long enough to eye the shore, he assumes that it couldn't be that far off, as the water was shallow enough to make a run for it. But when he plans to rise, three more eels were seen slithering in the shallows at both his right and left. Eventually a huge plethora of eels encase him in a small circle and broke any gap between Claude and the shore. He finds it impossible to try to avoid them. So, he settles himself in the small enclosure and waits for them to part. But it was in vain.

The space between him and the circling eels seem to grow smaller by the minute and they were relentless. It was proving harder to avoid them at all sides and Claude finds himself looking around frantically. He tries to keep all of them in check and the task was fruitless. He squeezes his arms tighter around himself, tries to make the ring separating him and the eels larger. It was getting harder and harder to fend them off.

All of a sudden, one eel succeeds in brushing against one of Claude's ankles and immediately Claude feels an unearthly seize, that effects his movements. It steals his mobility, his speech, his breath and his vision. It twists his reality and takes him back to a place he never wanted to visit again and shows him the face of a man he never wanted to come in contact with again. The memory devours his mind.

"You must bleed out the sin boy! Say it!"

The man's heavy voice was heard over the child's shoulder. It rang out onto his soft, exposed, white flesh and deafened his ears. He trembled waiting for the first blow.

"Forgive me…" The boy began softly.

The first crack was numbing, but it cut the boy's plead off in an instant. The moldy air eventually crept in and stung the very first assault made on his lower spine.

It was his seventh year.

The young boy, closed his eyes tightly, whimpered softly before being able to utter another word, but finished shakily.

"…For…for I have sinned." He stuttered out.

"Don't you dare cry boy! You brought this upon yourself. Say it again!" Demanded the man behind him.

"Forgive me…"

 **CRACK**

"… for I…"

 **CRACK**

"…Have sinned."

 **CRACK**

The boy kept his hands where the man could see them, they were pressed against the stone wall of the stables. He found that his nails had clawed into the stone and broke at the pressure to compensate for the heated strikes against his back. The pain was searing.

Tears formed at the corners of his eyes, they threatened and teetered on the edge of their rims. His throat tightened and ached. He longed to cry out, but he refused because he knew it would make it worse and he was old enough to know the consequences.

Fresh warm blood could be felt sliding down the small of his back. It stained the top of his small trousers. The man's voice was heard again without mercy.

"Go confess your sins Claudius!"

Claude lowered his hands to his sides, balled his fists tight and held his head low. He folded his arms to his chest and stomach, in a small attempt to protect his vulnerability. He turned in shame, toward his father and answered softly.

"Yes father."

His father looked to him and sneered.

"And stop slouching! Or you'll get another bout of it!"

Claude unfolded his arms and straightened quickly at the barked order. He managed as well as he could. He found it was easier to stay in that position and discovered bending his back to his previous posture made the cuts split open and start bleeding again. He saw it as blessing in disguise.

"Sorry Father." He said in a small voice.

"If I ever see you doing anything other than your studies, you will get triple. Do I make myself clear?" His father presented a stance that made Claude shrink back and he met his father's stabbing, cold eyes. He remembers to straighten and when he did the newly made wounds opened with a sting. Claude winced inwardly but hid his discomfort and answered in a hushed tone.

"Yes father." Claude watched as his father turn to his side and wiped the blood from the leather threads with ease. Nothing but red could be seen transferring from the black leather to the white cloth. He dismissed his only son with disconnection.

"Leave me." He ordered mechanically and unemotionally.

"Yes sir." Claude said quickly.

Claude grabbed his shirt from the hay scattered ground and exited the stables as fast as he could. Heading to the church for confession, he didn't look back and finally long awaited tears fell down his tender cheeks. The crisp Fall air cooled them by the time they reached his small jawline.

Claude was brought back to his reality in limbo and the eel swam away in a hurriedly manner and disappears into the mesh.

He can't find his breath. All he can do is sit there with his jaw slack, he didn't have enough air in his lungs to even try to scream out and he felt paralyzed. It was the shock, the shock at the first strike, but more so from the horrid memory that it produced. It was a memory of his first bloodletting, brought on by his trespasses and there were many more to come in his days as a young child. Days he never wanted to live again.

All he could do was sit there and tremble, due to the growing cold and out of the raw mental trauma. The water had went cold and it made him feel even more exposed to these devilish sea serpents.

He started to shake in his fight to keep himself together. Unabashed tears slipped from his eyes and slid down his cheeks. He didn't dare try to wipe them away, he feared any movement would attract the attention to more eels. He just tightens his hold, closes his eyes and rocks in an attempt to soothe himself.

More splashes were heard as another eel approached. Claude freezes and tries to avoid its touch by scooting back, but that meant coming in contact with the ones behind him. It was no use, he had no choice and before he knew it he felt slimy flesh swipe his foot and the pretension was unbelievably painful. Soon another memory swims behind his eyes and then all surroundings change again.

Claude kept his head down in procession with the other twelve year old boys, heading to the church. His brown hood blocked the sight of his face as regular Parisian gawked at the scene taking place. It was a regular thing for boys his age to take this quiet trek to Notre Dame, for their studies for priesthood. But, it still didn't stop the average person from taking notice.

None the less, Claude could feel their eyes on him and it unnerved him. It had nothing to do with being on display. The feeling rather made him want to meet the eyes of the ones that practiced daily happenings that did not require refrain. He was too curious and he had to remind himself to stay on his path of righteousness. He knew all too well that the punishment was severe.

As he walked, he kept his eyes glued to the ground and he was succeeding. Until, a slight wind blew at his hood, it lifted and distracted him. He looked to his left and locked eyes with a gypsy girl in the crowd. He kept walking as he stared. He couldn't look away and she was the only creature in the square that he was aware of.

She looked as if she was his age. She had long straight black hair that fanned at her neck line and her eyes were a pale gold. Her skin looked like a sweet caramel, a sweetness too exotic to fathom in his mind at the age of twelve and she was so…so beautiful. Claude's own realization confused him, but also scared him. His father warned him of these sort, they were not to be trusted and they would be any man's oblivion.

"These demon spawn will send you to the pits of hell! They are not to be trusted! They are heathens! They wallow in the sin of the flesh, practice their ungodly Pagan rituals in blood and sacrifice. Do not fall for their charms!"

His father's warning rung in his ears, as the bells of the church rang out around the square.

Claude found himself staring way to long, as the bells shook him from his revere. He ran into the boy ahead of him, for the line had stopped. He momentarily looked up to find his father at the top of the church's steps with a look Claude couldn't decipher.

His back automatically started to tingle, his heart rate increased as an unnamed nervousness came over him. A feeling of nausea could be felt in the depths of his stomach and he felt like he could vomit at any second. He choked down the bile lurching in his throat as the boy ahead of him turned his angry gaze away and continued towards the doors of the cathedral.

That was the first night his father made him turn the crop on himself. From that day forth, Claude punished himself for his own unholy thoughts and actions. It was almost a daily occurrence.

The eel swims away with the speed of a viper and mocks Claude in its malevolence against him. The situation and the eels were completely void of any clemency. Claude notices that the attacks were coming more frequently now and he gives up trying to battle them.

His stomach becomes sour with sickness, his muscles and skin ache. His old afflictions scream in pain, as if it was etched in them, reminding him of his weaknesses, his carelessness and his overwhelming sense of emotion that he tried desperately to stamp out. But, he could only numb so much, before something else tried to penetrate it. The fear started too early and the disjuncture was all so present.

How could one be so loathed as I?

What had I done?

Was it merely a test of my will?

Or was I truly unwanted?

All these questions unlock in his mind. Another excruciating jolt pulls him to another horrid experience in time. A memory that shaped his ideas of the world and how dismal it was too become.

Claude wondered into his mother's sleeping chambers. He had experienced a night terror again and it had frightened him out of sleep. He tried to fall back to sleep, like his mother had always said to do, but he felt eyes on him and it made him leave his small bed to wonder in search for her.

"Mama…" He called out with need in his small voice.

He rubbed his tired eyes with the back of his tiny hand as he sobbed quietly.

He tottled his way to her bedside and pulled the covers to try to get her attention. A whimper slipped past his tiny lips as he did so. He was scared and the room was dark. He couldn't see over the edge of the bed either, he craned his head, but it was too high.

He stopped for a moment looking back nervously, it seemed as if he saw something and it made him start desperately pulling at the curtain of blankets flowing down the side.

He pulled harder, was able to lift himself and succeeded on peeking his small dark head over the edge. His wet brown eyes found his mother asleep all the way across the other side and her back was facing him.

Claude straightened his arms and reached as far as he could. When he pulled, he maneuvered his small legs over by bending one knee and hoisting himself onto the surface. He squirmed onto his hands and knees and wasted no time crawling to his mother. He reached her, sat on his knees and placed his small palms flat on her hip and pushed down in hopes of waking her. When she didn't respond, he calls out again in a tiny teared filled voice.

"Mama…"

When she still doesn't respond, he lowered his head onto the inner swoop of her waist and rested his head. He put gradual pressure on her arm, to try to rouse her. When that didn't work, he lifted his head, moved up near the head of the bed to tried to get a better look at her face, but got distracted with her long black locks spread across her pillow and he innocently stroked. He must have pulled little too hard at one point, not knowing his own strength and woke her with a start. She twisted her head around to find him behind her.

"What are you doing?! Why are you up again?!" She asked with alarm and irritation.

She turned on her other side, sat up on her elbows and faced him, but her look showed no concern, only annoyance. She asked him again and Claude sat back, not knowing how to express his fears to her, or his need for her comfort, for her warmth and protection. He couldn't say it, he felt her energy and it made him shrink away.

"I'm waiting child!" She continued impatiently.

Ignoring his intuition with her coldness, he still tried moving shyly to her, testing his boundaries and she gets up quickly before he had the chance to get close.

"No…This is the third night in a row Claude, I can't have you ruining my sleep with this."

"I told you, you can't sleep with me. You need to be strong and face things on your own."

Claude watched his mother move to the other side of the bed as he started to cry. She stopped at the other side motioning him to get off. He crawled to her with trepidation, but still tried to latch to her and she grabbed his wrist tightly.

"Ow..mmm." He cried out in discomfort, fresh tears fell at the sudden gesture and she pulled at him to get off the bed. He struggled by trying to pull out of her grip, by using his other chubby hand as leverage. He only managed to slip at her hand every time. She was ten times stronger than he was.

"No! Do as I say!" She ordered.

He stopped and obeyed, but she didn't let go. She roughly pulled him towards the hallway to his room. His small legs couldn't keep up with her pace and he stumbled behind her, only then does she let go with frustration. His small hands smack the marble floor to shield his face from a blow.

"You are such an unruly child! Is it so hard to contemplate your position or even consider me?" She bellowed at him.

Claude just sat on the floor at her feet, looking down, holding his small wrist and cried without abandon. Sobs echoing against the hall.

"Enough! Get into bed now!" She demanded with detachment.

She just stared down at her two year old son with a hidden smirk on her lips, as if she enjoyed watching him struggle with all of it. Claude still looked down at his small hand, he sniffed and eventually got to his feet. He wavered a bit, getting used to balancing on his own two feet and moved shakily to his bed. He crawled under the covers fast, shut his eyes, while the shadows wasted no time in blackening the corners in the small space that distinguished the light. His mother moved down the hall without even blinking an eye and ignored her son's pleas to be comforted. Claude fell back to sleep from total exhaustion. Eventually, Claude stopped seeking her out altogether.

Claude holds his head low, stares blankly at what would be the last eel to drudge up anymore hidden pain or shame within him. He absently notes the eerie grin the eel held, as it floated in place in front of him in the shallows and Claude continues to stare long after the thing had parted. His resolve was weak and it was getting harder to fight the urge to break.

No other memory pained him more than the last. It cut deeper than all the physical scars combined. He knew later in life, long after his parents had died from the plague that his mother could not handle the burden of a child. Only several years after that instance did he retain the fact that his mother resented him. He would have come to the realization on his own however, studying other Parisian children and their parents. He knew his relationship with both his parents was not the same, but at the time he came to the conclusion that he was being made stronger for what his father alone instilled in him. Or at least that's what he wanted to believe. He was stronger than the ones that demanded coddling and false promises of safety.

Was that even the truth?

Something deep inside him was telling him different and it made him admit; even in his numbed mind that he did long for just a taste of some sort of tenderness and to finally feel warmth. But because of the man he has become, there was no room for it and there was no redeeming to obtain it. There was no solace away from the daily reminder that he was an original sinner and that he deserved reprimand.

Just let the bitterness build the walls and do your duty. Bare the cross, through the marks created to cleanse your helpless soul and move on.

It was getting more and more difficult to stop the constant berating on himself and he finally lost the fight. He cries hard, bitter and angry tears. While messages never failed to deliver his self-hatred. The eels, despite the fact they were no longer needed, stayed and continued to swarm around him. They swam in full confidence. The words he was hearing were just as confident and the voice he was hearing was his alone.

Without love, without any outside knowledge from any other.

I will break you.

Because you are unloved.

No one will ever know why you are who you are.

You are nothing but a product made tyrant.

You are a villain.

Without a past.

Without any story.

Without any excuse.

I will make you bleed out before you realize you mean anything to anyone.

You are alone.

Alone.

Alone.

Alone…

Claude grabs his knees tight, bends at his waist, as uncontrollable waves of sobs tear from his mouth. They made his whole body quake and he trembles at the sheer force of the emotion that over took him. Unstoppable tears drop from his bloodshot eyes and made perfect ripples in the icy water. Every time he thinks he has sustained things, more abuse follows and it starts the process all over again.

You are weak.

You are nothing.

You are sin.

You're okay…

Claude didn't hear the first sign of reassurance, but heard his name very clear after.

Claude?

He looks up in a sopping mess with total confusion and shock. He hears another voice speaking in calm, hushed tones. The voice echoes throughout the atmosphere. He raises his head and finds that the source was coming from the sky. It was coming from behind the gray clouds. They still loomed over him, the water and the eels.

"The eels?"

He speaks quietly to himself, he looks out around his vicinity and finds that the eels were lessoning in numbers. They were disappearing.

Claude?

He faintly hears his name being called once again, it was too far away and he could barely make it out. He was so transfixed on wanting to hear this disembodied voice, he was ignorant of the clouds parting. Not until warm beams of light eliminate his frigid skin. He looks out to watch in awe as the eels scatter, as each beam made contact with them. Eventually they were out of sight and out of mind.

Claude looks up, squints, as the light made a perfect slice through the gloom. He follows the gold down, as it spreads from his hands, to his chest and covers his head in a blanket of calm. It warms his cheeks and dries the tears and the feel of hopelessness vanish. It was an indescribable relief. Relief of the physical pain and emotional sorrow that has haunted his steps since the day he was born.

He closes his eyes, lets the warmth consume him and let it carry him out of the turmoil of his own self-loathing and into the perfection that was all too elusive.

Lay back and rest Claude.

He breathes a long awaited sigh of relief at the command, straightens and lays out on his back. He lowers, lets the warm water melt away the pins and needles that prodded for so long. He let the water wash the cuts, the scraps, the lashes away and he falls into a tranquil slumber. The only sound heard was the heavy sleeping breaths of the waves rocking him into blackness.

* * *

 **A/N Well there you go. Hope it wasn't too depressing. I have to admit, this chapter was hard to write. I actually cried a few times writing it.**

 **I have to give credit to the movie entitled "The Cell" for the eel idea. There is a small scene with eels in the movie signifying walking on egg shells and making the wrong move would prove to be consequential. If you haven't seen it, please do so, it's very good. The premise delves literally into the mind of a serial killer.**

 **Also, I added a huge Alice In Wonderland reference too. Wonder if anyone can guess what it is. LOL!**

 **I hope to start chapter 3 soon. I've had some family issues I'm dealing with so please bare with me.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Please R &R**

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After the initial crisis was over and after Esmeralda felt that Claude was stable enough; she started moving about the various rooms gathering more things to use. Water was carried from the kitchens through many buckets and poured into her own personal cauldron. She had taken it with her during her move to the Palace of Justice and it always came in handy.

She had noticed another smaller fireplace located in his bedroom along the left wall, on the other side of his bed when she entered. The medium pot fit perfectly, she hung it over the flames with the handle by a hook and brought the water to a boil. She wanted to have the water on hand, just in case he was thirsty when he woke up and she knew having extra clean water to wash wounds would be a good thing to have. Starting the fire in the first place was a good idea altogether, for it was getting colder outside as the night went on.

After all was done, after making a small checklist of all she gathered, her curiosity got the better of her and she wanted to explore around the vast hall. At that point, all she could do was wait and she couldn't resist looking around. Even though this place had frightened her before at one time, it always intrigued her and she couldn't resist a free chance to see where Claude resided. Besides, she could pop in and check on him from time to time while she explored. She figured he would be out for the rest of the night.

She had dressed his back well enough so he could lie comfortably however he wanted and not be in pain whilst sleeping. He was currently on his left side and facing her towards the front of the room. She stood there for a minute and just studied his sleeping form. She decided to cover him a bit more, just in case he got cold. Without breaking her sight from him, she backed away slowly and with one more glance, she turned away quietly and moved through the small arch doorway and had to stop and take in the actual differences of the two rooms. It wasn't just the sizes in general, it was the completely opposite ambiance they both held. One was small and humble, the other, more majestic and royal.

"Just like the man himself." She spoke under her breath as she slowly moved towards the tall double doors at the end of the great room. In her slow stroll, she looked to her left and followed the row of benches along the wall. Her eyes glanced up to adore the tall diamond cut windows above. She stopped, after she had pasted the benches and moved toward the last few. She leaned in, rubbed the condensation off the cold glass and peered through.

The window brought the singing cathedral into clear view, just across the low Paris homes below. The two buildings couldn't have been more different from each other. It was always strange, but she always felt as if the two structures were in a continuous battle with one another, always had their own idea of morality and they seemed to always release this tension that affected all that lived between them.

One emanated an idea of total dominance and intimidation that demanded respect. Bringing forth laws that told the fate of all who inhabited the city. It was a place where the scales were tipped, either in your favor or not.

For its occupants, including the great judge, it was believed to be the foundation of Paris' survival. To Esmeralda, the other sent a much more softer message, one that she could support much easier. This place brought forth the sense of safety, peace and shelter. Promises that never were broken to her or her people, once they crossed the threshold, or even when standing on it's very steps. Even though she knew blood had been spilled on them many times prior.

But the difference was the actions that were taken. All that inhabited the sainted walls felt the weight of consequence for each act and let all offenders know that their actions came with a price. A price that could cost them their very soul to damnation. She herself didn't believe in all the folly that was thrown back and forth of course. All Esmeralda needed was the simple reassurance that whatever was threatened to these deadly men, kept them superstitious enough not to harm her once she flew through the doors.

"Justice of the peace verses just peace." She spoke lucidly to the cold glass. Her warm breath fogging the window, giving the illusion that Notre Dame was held by a heavenly cloud. She couldn't help but chuckle as she broke herself away and turned her back to the panes.

Looking above, she followed the bowed ceiling from left to right and eventually reached the gigantic crucifix adorned the empty hearth. With the gigantic man hung upon it in full detail. She made an uneasy face as she stayed glued to her spot, just leering at the relic. Her imagination got the better of her, as she pictured the battered deity jumping off the cross and crushing her under his wide, splintered wooden foot. She tore her gaze away in a rapid turn of the head, as if it just offended her and she came to the realization on how much it really did.

She never understood the fixation and never obtained any peace of what it stood for. She was quickly understanding why Claude was the way he was and it opened up this new resentment in her. It made her stomach turn and it set her nerves on edge.

Thinking of him being taught to remind himself of his daily sins was almost a sick joke. Turning his body into a gory canvas with markings, due to his maladjustments. In reality, it was impossible to keep all that in check, to avoid reprimand and the thought of him bearing it as a small child made her eyes fill to the brim with hot tears. It was inconceivable, it was cruel and it proved to be an insatiable demand from an unforgiving god.

It was clear to her, that he experienced horrors that NO child should ever have to witness, stresses that NO child should have to suffer and responsibilities that NO child should have to worry themselves with. It was abuse at its finest, tied in a fancy, fraudulent, manipulating bow and it made her blood boil. It infuriated her to think they got away with it. Only because it was the norm in their way of life.

She refused to give the thing anymore of her attention, it was hard enough not to act on impulse and burn it in effigy. So she directed her attention towards his desk across the room and could see his clothing was slumped to the ground from where she stood. She could see they had fallen from a small stool next to his high back wooden chair. When she got closer to the rosewood desk, his chaperone came into view. It was sitting over many scribes and scrolls that were in a disheveled manner on top of his desk. Next to many pardons was his regal chalice and it looked to be half full of wine. Most papers looked like they were still awaiting to be signed for his approval. While she was snooping at the many legal documents, she slowly picked up the dark crystal glass, absentmindedly sniffed the dark red contents, drew the glass away from her nostrils and wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"Ugh…a bitter drink for a bitter man, I suppose." She stopped at that remark and automatically felt bad for making it. Old habits of biting remarks die hard she thought. She had to stop with the old and start looking at their relationship differently now. She had to except that there was going to be a huge shift in their dynamics and she had to be the one to open up a conversation. She knew it wasn't going to be easy gaining Claude Frollo's trust, but she was a determined soul. The good thing was, Frollo knew this as much as she did.

She found herself staring at the doorway leading to Claude's room still in deep thought and still gripping the glass. She looked down, watched the remaining wine swirl around and before she knew it, she downed the liquid in three huge gulps. She began picking up his amice, robes, hose, shoes and his chaperone at a fast pace. She felt this urge to want to be by his side, like something was calling for her attention from a far. It echoed in her ears and deep in her inner conscience.

Once she had all articles of clothing balanced in her arms, all was dropped to the floor by the time she entered his room. Her eyes went wide with shock and concern filled her features. His belongings were soon trampled on. Esmeralda crossed the room to his bedside in a frantic rush.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Please R &R! Thanks!**

* * *

She was twenty feet from his bed, when she found him on his back and heard the loud weeping echoing from across the room. It felt like she was in slow motion, like her ankles were weighed down with lead. She couldn't get to him fast enough. She didn't even know what to expect when she got to him either. She wondered if it had anything to do with his injuries. When she finally got to his side, she halted and evaluated him. She realized he wasn't even awake. His pale lids covered his rapid moving eyes. As she got closer, she noticed a slight glimpse of reddened sclera visible as well. She shook her head.

 _Does this man ever sleep?_ She asked herself.

Her eyes went to catch a glimpse of his back, but it was no longer visible, he had changed position. To her relief she couldn't see any fresh blood spread under him. Her dismay didn't dissolve however. The display in front of her made the whole thing unsettling. She knew he was in a deep dream state, but then she amended that thought.

 _This was no dream…_

"A nightmare." She declared to the cold air, under her breath.

Guilt found its way into Esmeralda's rapid beating heart and it dispersed into every fiber of her soul. Her empathy for him was so strong now and it made her eyes burn with tears. She watched him fight unseen demons in his most helpless state and it made her wish she had never left his side. She shouldn't have ever left. But, her optimism was fiercer than any guilt could overtake. She had gone this far with him and if she was capable of remedying his physical wounds, she could with his spiritual ones as well.

First she had to let go of the defaulted fear she had for this man. She had every reason to still be cautious of him, but she now knew she was only dealing with a man and not a monster. She also knew that this night has taught her more about the human ailment of the mind than any other time.

Another minute slipped by in her own contemplations. In the same breath she tried to build enough courage to reach one slender hand toward him and wake him. She argued with herself on this, wondering if it was safe to even try to rouse him out of this. She had heard horror stories of people being abruptly awakened from dreams and nightmares. Stories of people attacking the ones attempting to wake them, or they themselves having horrible convulsions that would leave them traumatized for long periods of time and even forever.

Another minute passed and she looked at his writhing form with nervous eyes. She knew she had to try to intervene. She banished the previous horrid thoughts in her mind and reached her hand out to him. She inched forward quiet and timid. She was almost to his clammy, defined shoulder.

Suddenly, his body reacted to an unknown and unseen strike. It made his back trunk contort and the abruptness caused her to pull her hand back with a jerk. She clasped her own hand to her chest tight as she watched in horror as Claude sobbed in pain, every muscle going tout and strained. She looked to his feet to see his toes curling and his arches flexing. His hands were balled into fists as they shook weakly at his sides.

She stood there distressed and beside herself. Even though she was still in full analysis mode, she didn't know what to do but simply look for signs of injury. The way he was stretching his skin perturbed her and she didn't want his trauma to worsen. Finally, just as quickly as it came, his body went limp and the whole troubling display ended. He sunk back in his bed, his head lolled back and forth on his pillow.

Esmeralda stayed glued to her spot, waiting for another unpredictable episode. She swallowed nervously and swept the hair away from her unblinking eyes. Then she inched towards him slowly on the balls of her feet. As she neared, she cocked her head curiously and noticed fresh tears forming at the outer corners of his eyes. Sweat beaded his brow as it furrowed in torment. She could hear clear, painful cries rip through his tight throat, which followed full low sobs.

The collective weight of his tears gave way and one single tear managed to drop. It travel down his temple and disappeared in the mess of his damp hair. He continued his mute crying and once Esmeralda was sure there would be no reprise of his last spell, she swiftly took his trembling hand in hers. Her other hand moved to his head, touching his wet forehead and put the constant back and forth motion to rest.

Her palm soothingly made its way to his hair line and in an upward motion, the tips of his silver hairs reflected in contrast to the fire's light on the other side of the room. They bent at her hands will and fanned back into place. She proceeded to his crown and he turned his head to face her. He was still struggling with whatever or whomever held him hostage inside his own mind. A few more tears could be seen from his right eye. They slid to the bridge of his hooked nose and dropped off into an unseen crevice of his pillow. Esmeralda wiped the remaining collection away and leaned in close.

Her lips barely made contact with his upper temple. She took an unsteady breath. Her throat begun to ache again from oncoming tears of her own, that she had to fight off. She closed her eyes tight and felt her wet lashes.

"You're okay." Her hot breath whispered against the swoop of his side burn and she moved her head to the side. Her black tresses masked both their faces.

After a long pause, she raised her head a bit to watch his reactions. She still held a tight grip on his hand and she didn't let go. Neither hand stopped their efforts on him.

"Claude?" She called out his name to try to get some kind of response. Her attempt caused his lips to form into a small frown, at least that what she thought. It was between sadness and confusion and she wondered if he could indeed hear her. So, she strived again.

"Claude?" Her eyes never left him. She watched, eyes unblinking for changes in subconscious moods.

Just then, she noticed his eyes trying to open and his head lifted. His lids cracked wider to reveal a brief glimpse of his dark chocolate eyes. They focused on her for just a second before they swam up into the back of his head again.

He was trying to wake, but Hypnos had him in his grips. Esmeralda knew what kind of struggle he was having, she knew all too well.

She remembered countless times where she would be fighting to be released of a nightmare. Like she was in an endless loop. Awaking within a dream, within a dream, within a dream. Like her spirit travelled too far, too deep into the stratum of time and had to revisit every layer to wake. At least that's what she believed.

"Lay back and rest Claude." She spoke faintly to him and she watched Frollo slowly lower his head and close his eyes fully.

She still held onto his hand and she could tell his heartbeat was waning to a steady rhythm. His breathing had slowed as well, he was no longer fighting to breath in between horrible sobs and cries. His inhales and exhales through his nose reminded her of waves crashing in the distance.

As she watched him rest his head against his pillow, she saw his features change slowly to a much more tranquil air. To her relief, there was no longer an aggrieved look upon his face.

Through this whole thing, Esmeralda didn't even notice how exhausted she was. Her adrenaline was receding fast. She didn't realize how much her feet ached until she flexed them, or how tight her lower back felt. She couldn't tell how long she had been standing. All her efforts had been used up for him. Only then, did a small part of her mind echo through and try to convince her that he wasn't worth her trouble.

 _What has he done to prove that he deserves your kindness? Even after refusing it? You should have left him._

 _Why would you waste your time on this cruel, unapologetic maniac of a man? When there are others out there that deserve your attention._

 _Because…They are already loved…_

Suddenly, a picture was placed between her doubting thoughts and her drive to come to a rational reason. One of the most innocent things in the world.

It was that of a new born infant.

One of the most fragile things to ever enter this cold, cruel and hate filled world. A being that is at the mercy of its custodians. A being that should never be over looked, ignored, abused or exploited for any means. That only love, happiness, protection and solace be the fundamentals of their universe and making sure those values never fall short or have any conditions. Only then could a person live through this existence with love in their own hearts.

Esmeralda looked down at Claude's sleeping form.

She hated to use the word pity in describing this position with him, but every other word she used in its place was just a semantical evasion. Maybe it stemmed from her own pride and self-righteous tendencies. She could recall countless times of resenting the ones that took pity on her. It left her feeling helpless and weak.

Claude never did however. He believed in self-sufficiency and taking responsibility for your own actions. It was something that Esmeralda surprisingly, but secretly admired.

The look on her face grew more solemn as she eyed her handy work of the linen wraps that encircled his jutting ribs. The memory still fresh behind her eyes.

 _Not like this…This had gone too far…_

Suddenly, Claude stirred and it jolted her back out of her thoughts. His low baritone groan carried throughout the small room and it left Esmeralda's spine tingling.

Esmeralda jumped into action and crossed the room to the fire place to fetch some of her supplies, including fresh water and his newly washed goblet. She was just rounding the end of his bed when Claude attempted to lift himself up.

That was a mistake.

"No! Claude, stay…" She cut her warning short in slight irritation at his usual stubbornness and watched anxiously.

Claude raised his upper half off of the bed. He swung his legs ungainly off the side of bed into a sitting position and instantly, the room started spinning. His head began pounding and his eyes went unfocused. He could hear a woman's voice to his right, but just as he tried to turn his head to find her location, he felt nausea and it caused his stomach to lurch. His throat tightened and his mouth salivated enough to know he made the wrong choice in moving.

Esmeralda saw what was left of the color drain from his face and she knew she had to find something quickly. She set her other things down momentarily in a heap and fetched his empty washing basin nearby. She grabbed it loudly and hurried to his side. Just as soon as it met Claude's ashen face, he retched hard and loud into the bowl. He griped the sheets tightly at his sides, while Esmeralda steadied him as well as she could. His palms and the bottoms of his feet became clammy with forthcoming sick. Every throw of his stomach left a burning inside and it made the hammering in his head ten times worse. His whole body was weak. His muscles ached all over and his back stung. He could feel an independent pulse beat on its own underneath some sort of cloth restraints.

Esmeralda observed with hidden consternation that there was no contents entering the bowl. There was nothing in his belly to project and she knew it was because he hadn't eaten in god knows how long.

She held the bowl to him for a while after he had calmed and felt confident enough to remove it from him. She rested it at his bedside, took a piece of linen near her and wiped at his mouth. She held his shoulders firmly and she leaned in. She tried to get a look at his eyes, but he was too hunched over and the weakest she'd seen him yet. It worried her, but she had to get to him, she had to make him listen and understand. It was for his own good.

"Claude? Please." She begged as she continued, still trying to catch his eyes. "You _NEED_ to lie back." "You're not well and you've lost a lot of blood."

Claude lifted his head weakly and caught the worry on her face. But closed his eyes shortly after. Even the dullest of candle light Esmeralda had lit earlier assaulted his vision. Which caused his excruciating and massive headache to begin pummeling inside his head once more. It was enough to start a whole new round of sickness welling up in his tender stomach.

"Please." She asserted.

He swallowed, trying to moisten his now dried mouth and throat. All it did was make him want to gag more. Another wave of sickness followed this and Esmeralda backed up just in case. She also had her hand at the ready with the basin if did in fact hurl. But, to her relief, he relented and started moving to lie back down again.

As he laid back, Esmeralda readied his heavier blanket at the end of the bed and got her supplies ready for him. She still kept an eye on him as he lowered himself back onto the mattress. She poured a fresh goblet of water for him and headed to his side. She decided to set the full glass on the bedside table. She figured it would be unwise to offer it to him without him asking first. Her decision was mostly due to his nausea. Although, she knew he needed nourishment badly, she didn't want to bother his already agitated stomach. She trusted that he would request things if needed. She made a mental note to fetch someone to bring food up later. However, she did move the candle light out of his line of vision. It casted the right shadows over him in the room so he could rest, without disabling her work in the process.

* * *

A couple of hours had past and Claude was in and out of dreamless bouts of sleep. After covering him with his heavier blanket, she carried a small wide, wooden bench from the other room and set it at his bedside. In the process, she had picked up his clothes that she had dropped and folded them neatly on a nearby table.

Finally, she sat down on the bench. It was nice to finally be off her feet. She was always used to being on them for long periods of time, but this whole night, including the stress had caught up to her. She ended up folding her arms at the edge of the mattress and lying her head down on the cool linen.

Her eye lids felt heavy with every fall of them and it was getting harder to keep them open. Her eyes rolled to the back her head at an instinct and REM was fast at hand.

She was out in seconds and all she could hear before drifting off was her and Claude's heavy breathing.

* * *

 **A/N Sorry this took so long guys. I have many a writings I'm attending to at the moment. But I told I wouldn't forget this one. This one is kinda short, but I'll try to write a longer one in the next.**

 **As I promised Fresme feels and much more. Even though Claude is not yet fully aware and conscious just yet. So more Fresme feels yet to come as well.**


	5. Chapter 5

"Trinity?!"

A young ten year old Claude Frollo cupped his mouth with his hands to project the name he was currently yelling, as he walked along the shore of his Aunt's private sea side property.

"Where are you? You silly cat."

With some growing concern, he scanned the long shore ahead, using his right hand as a visor to repeal the low, late summer sun that was setting just ahead of him. Avoiding the glare as much as he could, he finally spotted the brown and gray tabby just ahead in the distance. He broke into a relieved jog at finally spotting her.

"There you are. Sun bathing I see." He halted, looked down and balled his fists at his waist with exaggerated, feign irritation. "You know, I've been looking all around for you." He couldn't help but smirk as the short haired tabby looked up at him with calming green eyes and disinterest. She uncurled herself calmly and yawned. She ended it all with a long stretch at his feet and propped herself up into a sitting position.

He shook his head with humorous adulation and tittered as the cat started mewing airily. She started moving affectionately towards his bare legs and started rubbing her whole body against them sweetly. Claude brought his hand down to scratch at her ears. Her purring grew as her muzzle came into contact with his index finger. She sniffed the tip with curiosity and slid her whisker pads down the length of his finger. Her head bowed to meet his palm again, circling and searching for more scratches and caresses. She made several more rounds about his legs, hitting them each time with ownership.

"Boy, you are an attention hog aren't you now?" He softly grabbed the back of her head and ran his thumbs up and down the "M" design of her forehead. They covered and stroked along a thin mark of a white cross right in the middle of the whole pattern. Trinity moved her head harder against the friction of his thumbs and chirped with satisfaction.

Claude smiled wide.

"You're such a good girl." Claude stopped his attention on her and Trinity looked at him with longing eyes and mewed at him to continue. Claude laughed, but was interrupted by his aunt calling him from the top of the massive, man made wall to the left of him.

"Claude?!"

Claude looked up and craned his neck to see the dark hair of his aunt peek over the edge of the huge wall. She made eye contact with her nephew quickly below and called down to him firmly but sweetly.

"There you are, it's time to head in. Tide will be coming in soon, it's dangerous and it's almost time for dinner."

Claude turned to regard the illusive water and his eyes went wide at just how short of a time the water took to reach another few inches closer to him and Trinity. She didn't seem to be alarmed though.

"Yes Aunt Audrey. May I bring Trinity inside as well?" He called to her and then made a gesture to Trinity, while the cat incautiously groomed herself.

"Of course dear. But once you enter the house I want you to clean up immediately before I serve dinner." She disappeared from view, but just as quickly, her head popped back into Claude's view, before he had any time to react.

"…And no feeding her any table scraps. Are we clear?" She added.

"Yes ma'am." He pledged eagerly and wasted no time in carefully scooping up Trinity. He put her in a comfortable position against his chest, supporting her back paws and wrapping his other arm around her fuzzy midsection securely. Trinity relaxed into his grip and let him carry her to the wall that had built in steps leading to his aunt's vast garden property above the shores of the Mediterranean.

He met his aunt at the top and let Trinity jump from his arms and land on the soft grass at his own bare feet. Just like Trinity, he enjoyed the feel of the coolness of the grass tickling the bottom of his feet. Both Claude and his aunt looked down at the little kitty in delighted amusement. She rolled around on the lush turf, wiggling and chirping. Both laughed at her jolliness. She eventually rolled onto her back exposing her belly, making it clear what she wanted. Audrey bent down to Claude's surprise and started rubbing at Trinity's stomach softly. Claude was enthralled at the interaction between the two and met eyes with his aunt when she straightened. She felt his eyes bore into her own and she gave him a look of self-awareness.

"What?" She chuckled.

Claude grinned.

"You like her, don't you?"

"I never said I _didn't_ like her. She's…"

"She's what?" His smile faded a bit as he left his aunt's eyes to look down at the small cat licking her paws and rubbing them against the top of her head and face. There seemed to be an invisible thread between the pair. Trinity sensed an emotional change in Claude and stopped immediately to look up at him. She mewed and when his face didn't change, Trinity got to her feet and moved to his legs. Instead of her usual possessive rubs however, she hopped up on her hind legs, so her top half steadied on his own. She made a long stretch upwards with one paw, as if trying to reach for him. Claude rubbed her head and picked her up in his arms. Her purring never ceased as she nestled back into his arms again.

Claude made contact with his aunt again, with a small look of sadness. Guilt rushed through Audrey at the sight. It was a look he always carried upon entering her home, at the start of his summers with her. She wanted to be the last person to ever conjure that look in him.

Claude's face changed from sadness to uncertainty.

 _Is she turning against me too now?_ He asked himself, while he rigidly waited for her response.

Audrey made sure to smile and reassure him that she genuinely meant no ill judgment towards his cat and she further elaborated on her previous comment.

"What I mean is; she different. Even more so than any other animal you've bonded with."

Claude's paranoia vanished almost instantly at his aunt's observation and his eyes went wide with fascination.

"Really? You think she's special?"

It crossed Audrey's mind that maybe Claude was oblivious to how Trinity reacted to him. Maybe he just had a stronger bond with cats, rather than dogs or other animals. Even though he seemed to have a fondness for all of them on some level. Audrey knew for a fact that cats sought out their masters out of any other animal and she always saw it as a huge honor to be in good favor with a cat.

Audrey nodded and smiled fondly at the two.

"I know for a fact that she knows you are."

"Really? How so?" He asked with even more intrigue.

"Well…" Audrey went on. "For starters, she never leaves your side and if she does, she's not too far away from you."

Claude shook his head to the contrary at the fact of nearly misplacing her just moments ago.

"But, she almost got away from me today. She was completely on the other side of the beach."

Audrey persisted with a sure grin.

"I don't believe for one second that this cat would run a stray from you."

"How do you know for sure though?" He looked down at Trinity curled up in his arms. Claude tightened his enclosed grip around her possessively. Almost in fear of her deciding, at that particular moment to jump out of his arms and run away forever. He finally looked up at his aunt with earnest eyes. He was desperate for assurance.

"I just do. I mean, you two have only known each other for a month and it seems as if you've known each other for years. Cats don't just warm up to anyone, you know. You have to earn their trust." She pointed her finger to reference at how Trinity was laying in his arms. "…Take that position she's lying in. No cat would dare be almost belly up to someone they've only known for a month."

She crossed her arms in confident resolution.

"That cat isn't going anywhere; anytime soon."

At long last, Claude exhaled with relief and Audrey saw the piercing stare soften. She was aware that Claude trusted her, but Claude was a different child amongst his peers and she saw a very crucial ability in him. It was like he could read souls. She had never in her life lied to him and never planned on it in the future. But she reckoned that if she did try, he would know it.

Claude's eager voice piped up between them as Audrey got pulled from her thoughts.

"It is strange isn't it? It seems like they…" He paused and instantly the wind that was keeping his sails full of wonderment deflated.

Audrey kept a small egging grin, trying to meet her nephew's down cast eyes.

"It seems like they what?" She plainly asked. She kept her sadness hidden from the obvious reality, that Claude's abrupt silence was due to his parent's "work" on him and Audrey loathed it.

Any "out of the box" thinking was strictly forbidden in her brother's household and he made it clear, to Claude especially, that any external voicing that went against his idea of the church's teachings were forbidden and highly consequential. Audrey still kept her faith in tact just as much as her brother did, she just had other ways of going about things. Treatments that didn't involve fear or harm. How was that good for anyone? Why ruin his outlook on life, his faith and in turn, ruin yourself in his eyes?

Ironically, she saw his "teachings" as unlettered.

She was well aware of the struggles that Claude faced on a daily bases. Claude never spoke ill of his parent's slightness towards him, or their treatment of him and he didn't have to. When he would arrive every summer from Paris, he would arrive so quiet and distant, but it never took long for him to break out of his shell and become a normal child again. A boy he deserved to be. If only her brother could accept the wide eyed, adventurous and imaginative boy she did. He would just disapprove however and try to keep Claude away from her. He knew what he was doing, he was trying to stamp out any free innocence Claude had left inside and create himself in his son. She preferred his offspring much better.

Her brother, at Claude's age, was nothing like his son. Her bother was a born tormenter, but what she feared the most was Claude ultimately turning into both his parents and with that horrid thought in mind, she gave an encouraging smile and spoke softly to him.

"Go on Claude."

"It...it's nothing." Claude gave her dismissing eyes and looked down solemnly. Trinity's eyes opened a crack, revealing her deep emerald eyes, she blinked slowly at him. Claude nervously started rubbing her soft belly, making wispy, unseen tracks in her fur.

"You know you're safe here. You're safe with me."

Claude looked up at his aunt with shy eyes.

"I know…Bu…"

Audrey faintly cut him off.

"Anything you have on your mind, you can share it here. There will be no anger from me."

She saw Claude's face relax and his lips turn up into a thoughtful grin. Trinity wiggled playfully in his arms, drawing his attention to her. He looked down once more and swore he caught a glimpse of competent goading in her expression.

It was enough.

He looked up to the east sky, behind his aunt and caught the first few twinkling stars coming out of hiding from the day. They reflected against his eyes. Their light encompassing his vision with renewed fascination and reminding him of a true unfathomable creator.

Audrey waited in awe at how peaceful he looked at that moment. She'd never seen him so present.

"It seems like…they…" He stopped to gather his thoughts and courage. "…have lived other lives…you know, separate from this one."

Audrey nodded heartily in agreement, but Claude had his eyes glued to the shaded grass and didn't notice her own consensus. He went on unremitted however.

"…But, I wonder if…they come…back…" Claude's brow furrowed in deep thought and instead of watching him struggle with it all, Audrey fancied a guess on what he might be getting at.

"…As the same being, you mean?"

Claude's head rose in surprise at his aunt's notion and with a timid grin he agreed.

"Yes. How did you know what…?"

"We are more alike than you think my dear nephew."

Both smiled at each other and finally Audrey broke the silence and looked past Claude to see an almost complete set sun amongst the dying pinks and purples.

"Come on, why don't you give me more of your insight over dinner? I'm actually very intrigued." She held her arm out to guide both boy and his cat to the house.

Just when Claude was about to move along with his aunt, Trinity hopped out of his arms and ran to jump on the high wall behind them. Claude hurried after her and looked down to see the water already crashing against the wall below.

He glanced over at her on the ledge.

"What is it Trinity?" He kept his eyes on her the whole time as she kept her sights at the vast horizon ahead of her. Her eyes never yielded or blinked.

It was like she was entranced.

"Why don't we go eat, I know you have to be hungry."

Trinity acknowledged him with that enticement and allowed him to scoop her up and move to the house.

Unbeknownst to anyone, an angry splashing was growing in the water at a distance. Splashing of a thousand nightmares yet to be born. Waiting to strike at summers end.

* * *

 **A/N DUN DUN DUN! XD**

 **Sorry this took so long, but I'm back and hopefully I can get part two out sooner.**


	6. Chapter 6

Audrey's house was finally quiet and its residents were finally asleep. Both her and Claude had gone to bed a bit too late that night. Claude only had just a couple more days until he had to return to Paris and start school once again. It had become a ritual in her household, at the end of the summer, for Claude to repeatedly ask and beg why he couldn't just stay with her full time.

There were many reasons on why it wasn't prudent for him to stay. The only good reason she could agree with, when it came to her brother was Claude's schooling. One thing he managed to get right was his son's education. He was enrolled in the most prestigious, just newly credited school in the country and its main campus was right in the center of Paris. Claude was lucky for the privilege. The nearest school from where she shacked near the coast was about fifty miles inland.

"I'm sorry Claude, It's just not sensible right now to pull you from your schooling. In the end, you would still be away from me during the fall and winter months. You would most unquestionably be housed at the school's dormitories. The closest private school available here is a day and half journey and that's on horseback."

That was the most reasonable excuse she could give him in his obvious disenchantment, but it did nothing to calm him and she didn't blame him.

She went through the same thing once.

Her older brother's overbearance and "justifiable" violence with her, started when she was seven and ended in her eleventh year. Not because of the abuse itself, but because they were separated due to deaths in the family and they didn't reunite until Claude was only a year. She was in her early twenties by that time, he was in his late twenties.

One difference between her and Claude's experience, was her brother didn't get the chance to physically mark her by his own hand. He would have of course, if fate hadn't stepped in. Now, being a grown woman, his thirst to throw his weight around on her had vanished. He had another new toy to ruin. It wasn't a relief on her part though. She saw her own helplessness in Claude and it brought back her past with a vengeance.

Claude was the _ONLY_ reason she decided to stay. But she hadn't forgotten and she still hadn't ever forgiven. That may have been a huge lapse in all her Catholic teachings, but she was a person that understood that there was a time and place for everything and if a person wasn't healed enough to forgive, god hadn't presented the strength to move on from it. It was a process and a _looong_ one at that. But if it's dealt with carefully a person could overcome.

…And she wished…oh god…she prayed with all her heart that Claude would be able to…

…Maybe…with her help…

"But, I would be coming home to YOU! Not _him_ …not _her_ …or even _them_ anym…ore." Claude's voice was uneven through the tightening of his throat and it broke at the last word. His eyes floated in a pool of tears. They finally spilled down at great speed over his pallid cheeks and over his dry, thin lips. More followed within the existing, unending stream. The hopelessness in his face was clear and he finally buried it in his hands and wept hopelessly into them.

Audrey let him get his tears out and only stood with a dejected look of empathy as her mind reeled on in recollection.

Another difference was how cruel his peers were, compared to her own class mates when she was a girl. She had to admit, she was thankful for that. Her school trips were her only escape. Claude had no escape and she couldn't imagine the amount of fear he carried at all times. It was his own cross.

Even at a younger age, it was clear that Claude began struggling to relate with others, because the brutes preyed on his sensitivity and innocent nature. They smelled it a mile away. Claude's upbringing was exceedingly harsher than any of his classmates. They were free to do what they wanted, when they wanted and it left Claude on the outside looking in. On top of all the apathy shown, it created a social indifference between Claude and other people in general. It was only going to get worse as time went on and Audrey didn't see an end in sight.

As Claude's crying continued, she couldn't hold herself from him any longer and rushed to him in an effort to just give him some physical comfort. Something that didn't involve pain. Pain that involved the psychological, physical and emotional torment. It was deep, it was real and it was raw and copious. It was inescapable.

In a rare moment, young Claude allowed his aunt to take him in her arms and rock him as he sobbed out hard against her shoulder. So much that he was shaking in the sheltered confines of her arms. She brought him into her more tightly, rocked him delicately and ran her fingers through his messy black hair. She lowered her lips and felt the cool strands of his hair as they tickled her upper lip. She left one…two…three slow, long kisses on his crown.

About that time, Trinity walked over and sprung herself on the wooden kitchen table next to the embracing duo. She modestly lowered her whole body on the table's surface and into what looked like a loaf of fluffy bread. She stayed motionless and let Claude feel her body heat propagating to his.

At that, he calmed enough to discern the room around him through the dying roar of his ears. But his breathing was still heavily labored. Audrey could still feel the hammering in his chest. Evidence of his anxiety and his dread being poured back into his veins. The same ugly blights he stored away every three casual months a year. All of it preparing for an endless battle of survival. A ploy that would eventually callus his soul completely over time.

She feared that over all else and when Audrey went to speak, her voice failed her when she went to stroke his thin, almost emaciated back. It was the solid reminder of how dire all of this was. It wasn't even his spindly spine that struck her so much. Every boy his age went through that scrawny phase. It was the growing amount of scars he had collected while he was away. It jarred her upon feeling them over his thin night shift and it made her stomach sour.

She was speechless as the thoughts in her head raced on.

 _What do you say to something like this? What condolences could possibly be brought forth that would leave a more than hollow reassurance that he would be okay? That he would be safe? That what his father was doing was important. That "kids will be kids."_

It wasn't important. None of it was needed. None of it was noble, excusable or acceptable. It was madness and to convince Claude otherwise would be contributing to the idea that she normalized it.

So, she remained quiet as Claude's thin shoulders heaved out more sobs.

* * *

 **A/N This was a little short. These two parts aren't the end though, there will be more.**

 **This part hit real close to home as well. It was another hard one to write. Anyway, see you in part 3 of chapter 5.**


	7. Chapter 7

At the beginning of the summer, when his aunt finally let Claude bring Trinity in the house to sleep, he had made a bed for her. He placed it next to the head of his own bed, on the floor. He had discovered however, that Trinity could sleep practically anywhere around the house. She found the most compact, uncomfortable, hard surfaces to lie on and still was able to fall right to sleep. She rarely slept in his room during the day. She would rarely even touch her own bed, let alone his. When Claude would find her in the most intricate of spaces around the house, he would laugh lightly and wonder with great interest on how she could possibly be comfortable.

Claude never took offense to Trinity refusing to sleep on his bed, or sleep in the bed he made for her. Audrey had told Claude it was probably because Trinity was so used to being outside. Chances were, she had to improvise her sleeping arrangements from one night to the next.

 _Old habits are hard to break_. She would tell him with a smile and that killed any possible lingering of disappointments from Claude. But he had no ill thought about her habits. He had always shown respect for Trinity for her complete independence and cleverness. It was almost as if Claude saw Trinity as the reflection of a self he wished to be, in a life he wished to live. Trinity was that deep depiction of freedom that he longed for and could never attain.

To be able to escape the hurt, to find a safe haven was only a fairy tale in his life. Even though he did feel safe at his aunt's house, there was always that looming fear. It hung heavy in the backs of both Audrey and Claude's mind. A lot of that fear, Audrey noticed, went away when Trinity came along. She was more than a symbol, she was the embodiment of that much needed contentment. She was always near him when things went wrong.

…And right now, everything was wrong.

* * *

After the earlier bout of supplication through tears, Claude reluctantly went to bed. Audrey knew he was trying to prolong the next few nights as long as he could. But the mornings light still came no matter how long Claude tried to fight sleep. He was trying to keep hold of the good memories that the end of the summer stole from him every time. It happened every year, but these moments never lost their intensity. In fact, they seemed to get worse as Claude got older. Audrey wondered when that would change. Where sorrow and fear turned into bitterness. Then, bitterness inevitably turns into numbness and apathy.

She was well aware of those changes herself in the past. Even after she was miles away from her brother. At that point, it wasn't the initial actions of her brother that made her spirit die. It was the question on why god would put her in that situation at all, why would god allow such viciousness? She finally came to the conclusion that whatever god her brother answered to, was not the one she sought out. That was one of many thing that did bring her back. Even though it took years for her to start feeling again, she did recover.

The mending came from support by family members that have long since passed away. Family that shared her loving devotion to a god that protected the most vulnerable, never exploiting them. Audrey believed she was the last remaining, decent Frollo in the family. That thought wasn't exactly excluding her nephew, but if she was unable to be there full time for him, Claude's end would most likely be different. But it never changed on how the beginning started.

 _If you don't feel anything, the pain will go away. Stop feeling…stop feeling…stop reacting...just stop..._

She wondered if he had already started that chant himself. She probably would never hear it actually come from his lips. But that's not how it revealed itself anyway. How it revealed itself was far worse.

Just then, Audrey spotted Trinity as the little feline trotted silently past the kitchen walkway. It looked like she was headed towards Claude's room. He had only went to bed about thirty minutes ago. Audrey doubted he was asleep already. Although, his crying jag earlier had to have taken a toll on him. It wasn't impossible that he might have just warn himself out and cried himself to sleep.

That thought made her heart even heavier.

Audrey's curiousness eventually won over as she got up from her place at the kitchen table and made her way to the kitchen archway. She turned to her right to look down the hallway and caught only a glimpse of Trinity's tail as it disappeared into Claude's room at the far right end of the hallway. Audrey crept on the pads of her feet until she reached the entrance of his room and just in time to witness Trinity heading to the little round bed Claude had made her. It directly aligned with the doorway Audrey now stood in. Audrey watched with a held breath as Trinity slinked onto the middle of her bed. She spun herself around lazily to find a nice spot and kneaded the linen like she was preparing a lump of dough. Finally, she curled up in the center and Audrey smiled weakly through fresh tears at the sight. She sniffed softly and wiped a tear away quickly with a swipe of her index finger and her gaze went to Claude's form on the bed.

Audrey kept her eyes on him for a long while, when Claude jerked in his bed slightly. She gave an inquisitive look and wondered if he was in fact awake. She craned her neck a bit and squinted her eyes to try to see his head, but he was facing the wall and his head was concealed by the shadows of his many blankets.

Audrey's attention turned to Trinity at once, when Audrey sensed movement of the cat's head in her periphery. Trinity looked to the bed's high edge with a look of intense seriousness. It reminded Audrey of a first time mother listening in on her sleeping infant from another room.

Audrey studied the cat a bit more as Claude involuntarily jolted once more and this time it was with more force. It was followed by a sharp intake of breath that could be heard entering through his teeth. The sound didn't seem like he was in any pain. It sounded more like someone startled him. At first, Audrey thought he might had sensed her being there or saw her figure in the doorway and reacted, but his breathing quickly regulated once more exhibiting sleep. Audrey calmed until an audible sob was heard and Audrey started towards her nephew in a worried jolt, until Trinity stopped her in her tracks.

She watched as the cat fixed her trained, large green nocturnal eyes on Claude's bed. Trinity rose to her feet with grace and balance as Audrey watched her with fascination. She didn't even think the tabby blinked once as her body moved smoothly like oil when she rose. She watched impressed as every muscle could be seen working under her striped and spotted pelt to come to a standing position. Claude let out another sob and without any hesitation or trip of her feet, Trinity vaulted onto his bed in a clean, precise cut through the darkness. She rounded Claude at his feet and nestled herself between his stomach and the wall. He was in a fetal position, so the little cat fit perfectly in the small space.

Trinity's rhythmic purring began as she looked up at Audrey. Their eyes locked in an unheard communication that Audrey couldn't put her finger on. Audrey was always surprised on how anthropomorphic her eyes were. But it wasn't just her eyes. It was her presence as a whole.

"You are definitely an enigma." Audrey whispered.

Trinity slowly blinked her deep emeralds at Audrey and then broke the invisible thread linking the neither verse from Audrey's reality to focus on the sleeping boy beside her.

That brought Audrey's attentions to Claude the last time that night as well. This was the first time he hadn't awakened from some tormented dream. Or awakened screaming, covered in a cold sweat and eyes filled with tears.

Audrey reached for his dark hair and ran her fingers through sweetly. She bent down and kissed his temple tenderly. She took the covers that he had flung off in his sleep and tucked him in securely. Taking care not to burrow Trinity in the sea of blankets. Just before Audrey rose, she addressed Trinity once more quietly.

"Please protect him and look after him. He needs you more than ever right now." She gave a sad smile, turned and walked out of the room.


	8. Chapter 8

Claude never had a problem with inclement weather. He enjoyed heavy rains. When others would run for safety and feel uneasy, he was at his most content. If Audrey allowed him to, he would most definitely spend all day outside.

To Audrey, it was yet another charming difference between him and the rest of the mundane world and even though Audrey understood his love of storms, she had to call him back to the house by necessary means. She knew just how treacherous and how deep the waters could get by her many years of living near the ocean most of her life.

Naturally, she explained this to Claude and he never argued. The main reason he never did, was because he fully trusted her. She was genuine in her reasoning and never once led him a stray. She had never done anything to him that would make him think otherwise. Besides, he found things to occupy his time whilst in the house.

His favorite pastime was sitting at his window reading, with Trinity by his side. Both would sit, listening to the rain and if Trinity got restless, Claude would crack the window for her and she would gleefully sniff the cooler air the showers brought. He never opened it fully though. He guessed that Trinity wouldn't appreciate water splashing on her.

"I can't imagine a cat ever wanting to be out in this." He regarded the feline and let out a small giggle when she would move back with trepidation when a few heavy drops of rain hit the glass loudly.

"It's alright Trin. You're safe in here with me." He stroked her back and she rested back down on the ledge.

His soft laugh would occupy the otherwise empty room those days.

But today, Audrey wished she could witness the same tranquility as before. Today was different.

Today, the rain clouds sent a message of despondency. They laid low and hung heavy in the sky.

Today, they matched Claude's own weary eyes.

All the fascination they once held was replaced with insufferable grief. All of the fears that had loomed over both their heads finally fell upon his face at the moment he heard hooves tromping up the stone pathway.

The sound itself made the reality set in and Audrey was forced to face the fact that she was going to lose him once again. She wasted no time in reaching for him and wrapping her arms around his small shoulders from behind.

Claude sat frozen in her arms and she felt the resistance immediately. The numbness had already started within him. It was her worst fear coming true before her. She couldn't let it take him.

 _Remind him Audrey. He needs to hear it from you…_

"Try to remember that _you will_ be back soon." Despite her encouraging words, Audrey's voice broke and she couldn't fight off her own tears any longer. "…And…" She paused for a moment to see the horses coming into view. "…Don't ever let them change you." Her voice was earnest but warm. "Please promise me that."

Claude's callous demeanor resigned and he leaned back against her. Audrey soon felt the tension in his back become malleable to her warmth.

 _She of all people do not deserve this detachment from you._ He chided to himself, but only nodded his acceptance to her plea.

A soft meow from Trinity caught Claude's attention. He hadn't even realized the brimming of his own tears until he cocked his head toward the little cat and saw more than two of her.

They fell at an angle over the bridge of his nose.

He gently broke from Audrey and scooped Trinity up into his arms. He pressed his cheek against her soft pelt as her purring intensified. He looked up at Audrey with blood shot eyes.

"Promise me you will take care of her."

Audrey nodded while she sniffed in sadness and wiped her own tears from her eyes.

"…And you…" He whispered to Trinity through a tight throat. "…You be good. I'll be back as soon as I can okay."

He hugged her tight for the last time and hesitantly lowered the cat down at her place on the window's edge. Trinity looked up at him and calmly blinked.

Claude and Audrey both looked through the window when they heard the carriage driver's distant halt command and confirmed that the coach was parked at the front of the house. Claude's stomach lurched when the dark doors silently opened and his mother Catherine exited.

Like all the times prior, she refused to stride to the door and always chose to stand coldly next to the open coach door, awaiting her son.

Audrey kept an eye on the twenty seven year old outside and shook her head in disappointment.

 _What an unfortunate turn of events all this turned out to be._ Audrey thought to herself, crestfallen.

When it came to Catherine Frollo, the truth was always clear in Audrey's own mind. Even though Audrey never openly mentioned a thing on the matter of Catherine's disposition.

In a logical sense, she couldn't bring herself to put all the blame on Claude's mother. In a small way, Catherine was a victim, just as Claude was.

 _So young…too young for motherhood._

Audrey was always certain that at one time, Catherine had dreams of her own and was embittered by her own loveless prison that stole them away. But that sympathy always fell short however. Audrey refused to justify how neglectful and passive aggressive Catherine was to her son. Despite Catherine's own unhappiness.

 _How could you blame your dissatisfaction on the one being that had no choice to take it on in the first place? To make him pay for your loss of convenience._

Claude brought Audrey back to reality when he moved towards his bags. He bent down slowly to take hold of the handles with each hand and sauntered sadly towards the door. Audrey followed in toe.

Suddenly, Trinity sprang off her perch at the window and flew past both of them with a loud chirp of excitement. She noticed where the two were headed and stood waiting at the door to be let out once Claude reached her. Claude kept his lifeless eyes on the cheerful cat as he approached the foyer.

A new wave of sorrow came over him when he noticed her tail playfully flicking back and forth. Her eyes were wide with their usual buoyant enthusiasm at the prospect of going outside with her friend and spending the whole day exploring with him.

"She doesn't understand." He spoke in an unsteady voice.

Audrey moved along side him and saw his bottom lip quiver. She decided against trying to smooth out the situation with words. She felt it wasn't working in the long run anyway. Instead, she went over to the door where Trinity was waiting.

Trinity looked up and caught Audrey moving her way. She let out a few loud meows and made impatient circles on the ground expecting the door to open. Audrey bent down and picked the squirmy cat up and hugged her to her chest mindfully.

"Sorry girl, not today." She said softly.

Audrey was expecting a fight, but was surprised to see that she stayed still while Claude tenderly took hold of her head with each hand. He ran his thumbs ceremoniously up the tiny white cross on her forehead, leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her brow. His cheek followed suit and Trinity affectionately rubbed against it, wiping the paths of tears away from his cheeks.

A small smile crossed Audrey's face. It was the first smile she cracked that day. But she couldn't resist on recognizing the minor, but significant detail.

"I think she understands more than you know." She pointed out.

For a while Claude surveyed Trinity with a debatable eye, but nodded in confidence on the shared credence with his aunt.

"Don't worry, she'll be okay." Audrey assured him, giving him a warm smile. Trinity even mewed with solidarity. At least that's what Claude wanted to believe.

"I know she will." He exhaled lightly and straightened. He gave his aunt his best look of poise, even though she still could see remanence of worry in his red eyes.

Before Claude allowed another round of emotions to take over, he quickly turned, snatched his bags and crossed the threshold to the outside. Audrey followed him with Trinity still in her arms.

Thunder growled across the sky when she reached the top of the stone steps that led down to the circle drive. Claude continued to descend without looking back. Audrey held no ill feelings toward his choice not to. She knew it was probably wise to just get it over with. The prolonging wasn't helping the process of separation. Regardless of that, she still could feel her heart physically ache and her throat tighten. There was no easy way to go about saying goodbye.

She watched him lift his way into the carriage and disappear into the darkness of the coach.

It was like he slipped through a portal, never to be seen again.

 _You'll see him again Audrey. Just pray for him in these bleak days to come._

Audrey and Catherine locked eyes for a second before Catherine followed her son briskly into the car. Audrey restrained any impulse to respond to her, it would have been fruitless. Catherine only gave her a stringent look before she climbed up the small stairs and shut the door with a tight click. The driver was given his orders to proceed away and before she knew it, Audrey was alone.

* * *

Large rain drops started splattering fiercely against the small window Claude sat next to. He heard his mother prompt the driver and the carriage began to move at the drivers command. When they rounded to the other side of island, he turned to see Audrey and Trinity still at the front of the house before they both disappeared from view.

The house was now at his back.

In his head he pictured the house getting smaller as they moved away and just like before, he decided against looking back. Just thinking of that image stirred up sorrows he couldn't afford to express now. All he could do was sit and try to quell his inquietude. He found that focusing on the scenery outside was helping. That's when something caught his eye moving the opposite direction several yards away.

He recognized them quickly too.

 _Gypsies._ He said to himself, mystified.

Their carriage glided past the caravan with growing speed and Claude thoughtlessly leaned to get a better look.

 _It seems as though they're moving towards Au…_

"Why on earth are you acting so intrigued by those verminous heretics?"

The chiding voice made Claude's blood and thoughts freeze in unison. He straightened at once and sat in masked terror. He evaded his mother's burning scrutiny, but could still feel the smolder of it.

 _You idiot! How could you be so careless?_ He berated himself.

His brain started actively over loading with reasons to defend himself, but he couldn't think beyond his own careless error. The skin on his back began to crawl and it ached at the prospect of punishment for even looking at all.

He knew all too well about his parents protests against the gypsies. He knew how wicked they saw them and how they saw their choices in life to be an abomination. Not to mention the voluntary separation from the one true god of their faith. But out of all of those, thievery was the main issue. An issue that was costing money of some of the wealthiest in Paris.

 _…_ _or so they claimed._

Aunt Audrey always added that last bit and rebellion resonated in his core as he recalled.

 _She always told me it was because they never had the opportunities the rest of us were given. That some may have resorted to crime, but most used their honest skills to get by._

 _She also told me that there were all sorts of different people in the world that did bad things. That they came in all sorts of skin colors and creeds._ _But she also reminded me that there were good people and they came just as diverse._

 _Aunt Audrey was one of those good people_. He concluded wholeheartedly.

He didn't know if she had actually aided any gypsies in the past. He had never asked, nor did she ever mention it. But he wanted to believe that she might have and that she still did.

When all the world's ugliness seemed so impossible to overcome, she was always there to make it seem less daunting for him.

That was just the kind of person she was.

Claude snuck a guarded side glance out of his window and his heart deflated when he no longer saw the colorful wagon in his marginal sight. He dropped his head to stare at his lap with a sullen look.

"Let us _hope_ that none find your aunt's company. It would be _most_ unfortunate for her."

Claude turned his head toward the direction of his mother. Naturally curious, he automatically had questions about the vague comment. But he heard the pseudo silky tone in her voice and it did not fool him. He was well aware of her usual passive aggressive under current and fear replaced his interest right away.

The question of "why" hung in the back of his throat. It struggled to be released, but Claude swallowed it down. He dared not ask. He paid dearly in the past when it came to questioning either of his parents. Instead he tried to avoid looking directly at her. Afraid to find truth lying in those dark blue eyes. Sadly, just like past attempts, he failed and was met with a self-assured smirk that left him feeling even more inauspicious.

Catherine knew what kind of power she had over him, it prevailed over any remaining strength Claude had left. He broke contact with her and looked down at his lap once more in defeat.

The answer that hung behind his mother's lips was never spoken. He would find out soon enough that she never had to.

There was nothing he could do. There was no defense against the outside world other than building a wall. A wall he had been constructing for quite some time.

 _"_ _Don't ever let them change you…"_

 _"_ _Don't ever let them change you…"_

 _"_ _Don't ever let them change you…"_

Her whisper replayed over and over until it was just a fading ghost in the wind.

 _Her open heart was too good for this world. No one was deserving of it._ That final thought was the last thing that made its way through his sealed heart.

* * *

Audrey still stood on her top step well after Claude's coach disappeared over the hill.

She stared past her front garden, not really focusing on any detail around her. Her mind was conjuring up too many ideas. Ideas that weren't helping her cope. She tried turning her thoughts off by concentrating on Trinity's healing purrs and it helped until Trinity abruptly stopped.

Confused, Audrey looked down and saw that Trinity had locked onto something ahead in the distance. Audrey followed her line of sight and fell on a tired group of gypsies heading her way.

Audrey was used to the line of travel some gypsies took between the coast and Paris. It was about that time for some of them to make their way to less harsher climates.

At least twice in the coming fall season, she would see fires set up in camps just outside the perimeters of her property at night. But none ever ventured too close to her home, until she would let them know she meant no harm and that she didn't mind aiding them.

She supposed word got around of her hospitality. For this group didn't stop at her lands borders. They were making their way towards her front door.

Trinity didn't seem alarmed, just inquisitive and Audrey was sure she would try to bolt out of her arms once the wagon made its way to her gravel drive. But she stayed put.

"How bout we fill these walls with some much needed distraction little girl?" Audrey said playfully and scratched the top of Trinity's head.

The fluffy feline simply let out a carefree meow.

* * *

 **AN: Sorry this took so long to post. I've been feverishly working on it to get it as perfect as possible. But, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I'll see you guys in the next. :)** **:)**

 **PS I wanted to give thanks to embezz002 for your kind words and don't worry I'm not giving up on this story. I see my work to the end. ;)**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N Sorry this took so long! It's been busy with the holidays and just life in general. I haven't forgot about these stories though.**

 **I hope the mix of events makes since to everyone. I hope it ties in the end...I HOPE! LOL**

 **Anyway, enjoy and R &R please! Thanks!**

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"…Women of _our_ faith have been made to suffer for their original sin; for the deception of Eve."

"All men have to suffer for being enticed by their trappings."

"…But heathens…gypsy witches…are another matter…" "...stop boy!" His father abruptly interrupted his own oration to instruct his son, who was currently lowered upon his knees before him.

Claude froze and looked up with yielding eyes to catch his father's punitive look. In the back of Claude's mind, within his unfocused thoughts, sprung forth the possibility of leniency.

He was wrong however.

"Slow your pace!" He ordered swiftly and without compromise. Leaving Claude berating himself on his own ingenuous thoughts of his father. There would be no leniency and there was no getting past his father's knowledge on matters such as this.

It was like he saw right through him.

Claude lowered his insipid gaze. The corners of his vision beginning to turn white, but still managed to notice just how much blood was starting to stain the sides of his knees.

His dry throat tightened, holding back the cries he wanted to bellow out as the bile threatened to erupt behind his tightly closed teeth.

But, as always, he stayed silent, obeyed and slowed his pace.

The intentional stalling was indeed making the sting pervade into the waking fibers of Claude's back. But he dared not gather momentum. For he knew, at this point, his father was counting each blow he took against his flayed back.

"You should always wait between lashes, otherwise the old sting will dull you to the new…"

His father's fanatical voice was still present in his ears, but it started echoing in and out. The light headedness was steadily turning his attention away. Not to mention the distracting ache of his shoulder, that was beginning to grow tight at the resistance of the continual rotating motion of his aching arm.

...And panic ensued.

 _Concentrate on your breathing…_

 _Concentrate and listen…_

 _You must listen…_

After a time, he managed to distribute some collected energy, to be able to take control of his erratic breathing that was bubbling up to the surface too quickly. Only then was he able to hear past the muffling in his ears to hear his father's voice clearly once again.

"…Every stroke has meaning, every stroke is a reminder of our faults against our lord and every stroke enables the body to bleed the poison from its temple." His father all of sudden went silent and the only sound that emanated in the room, for what seemed like an eternity was the sound of Claude's slow and hard clouts against his shredded back.

Suddenly, his father lowered himself right above Claude's bowed head and he could feel his eyes burn upon his crown and anxiety filled his darting eyes until his own knees caught his attention. The smears of blood drying at the edges of his bent legs distracted him enough while his father growled down at him with quiet contempt.

"Even though these gypsy whores could otherwise have a hold on a man…take advantage of him…loot him. But not only of his coin, but of his purity. A man's faith must be stronger to counteract those dark forces. If it cannot…expiation must be professed. Until his lust is expunged."

Claude could feel the intimidating exhales of his father's nose move the loose hairs on his head and his insides liquefied from the familiar fear.

"You should have come right to me. If Marcel Thayer hadn't alerted me of the situation, I suspect I wouldn't have ever known." He straightened as he spoke with a levelled austere voice.

"I wouldn't have believed such a story if I hadn't witnessed the first time this happened."

Claude grimaced at the memory; wanting to bury and forget his shame forever. But when it came to his father, no previous offenses were ever omitted. Unless he felt that Claude learned his lesson. But, since his father had openly expressed his concern, other tactics were set into place for these circumstances.

His father went on.

"…And although the incident in the square a year ago was more innocent than this current issue. Apparently, you still need to be reminded of the consequences if you continue to be careless and non-vigilant and if you think I'm speaking of your current _cleansing_ …" He shook his head grimly. "…You are _poorly_ mistaken…"

"…There are far _worse_ things." His voice was low and held an entrenched emphasis that left Claude's shoulders shaking with exposure. " _You_ know what I speak of."

Claude was well aware. It was taught from birth, ingrained in their way of life and their faith from the beginning. One was never ever apart from the other. If you claimed any different, you were perceived as a critic and an enemy of the church. To every Catholic, your soul was seen as an abomination and doomed to the pit.

 _Hell…_

That paralyzing word itself sustained his father's power over him every time.

Even with this newly constructed fortress he had created around himself. Claude's fear of that prison was always just under the surface. Just the idea of being sentenced to perdition for eternity was beyond frightening.

It was mortifying!

The perspective became crystal clear with every recollection of it. Finally ignoring any physical pain he was enduring at the moment. Claude listened deeply to his father's warnings.

"It is **_nothing_** to test! It is **_nothing_** to challenge or question. Only then will you expose your _very_ soul to these demons disguised as beauty of the flesh."

"They will lead you away. They will _tempt_ you, _entice_ you and once you are far enough away from God's light, they will **_devour_** you. With no chance of being delivered from the darkness."

"Do you understand!?" He finally asked with a booming voice.

Claude flinched, but answered in a small voice "Yes father." It cracked from the dryness in his throat.

"You may stop."

The order was unexpected and Claude only froze in place. His elbow stayed erect as the leather tails made their way into the open flesh of his back. It seared, but he learned long ago not to be so eager to rise from his place before being told to do so.

"You may rise."

Claude lowered his burning arm in concealed relief. The back of his hand slapped against the cold stone floor in complete exhaustion and let go of the whip. He ignored the feeling of his own cold, sticky, half dried blood smearing the back of his white knuckles and tried to flex his legs to rise. His muscles were so tight it took some effort to prompt them so they could help him stand. When he managed to get to his feet he was met with the same whiteness that flooded the corners his vision as earlier.

That was, until…

"As for Filimor Belrose…"

Hearing his father mention his notorious older classmate's name temporarily shaded his own physical pain. This trigger made him latch on to his father's next words even more intently. His dark eyes filled with indignant vengeful rage.

 _I hope he suffers…I hope his weakness is his end._

Claude surprised himself for a moment. He stood back in his mind to self-reflect.

 _Audrey wouldn't be pleased…_

 _She taught you better…_

 ** _She isn't here!_**

That last reminder was from a voice Claude never heard before. It came in loud and clear and it instantly silenced any other dualism that was being fought.

 _She's not going to be here forever…_

 _To protect you…_

 _…You need to protect yourself!_

 _He's been nothing but a bullish thug to you. He deserves what he gets. All sinners deserve what they get! He's the reason you're here remember._

"…He's being dealt with…"

Claude held his breath for the gruesome details.

"…Appropriately." Claude's lungs deflated with violated chagrin. His mouth hung open while fury radiated in his gut. His eyes widen, while red dyed his surroundings.

 _Could he have just indulged me with something? Would it be a huge bother to humor me with a small piece of closure after what he's put me through?_

Claude snapped his mouth shut in an indignant motion. Drawing in his thin lips, he tensed his jaw muscles while gritting his teeth. He balled up his fists tight enough for the white to return to his knuckles. His whole entire frame shook. When Claudius inescapably noticed, he locked eyes with his son and for a rare perturbed moment, he swore the wide incandescent eyes staring back weren't his son's.

His father promptly wiped his inceptive look and narrowed his eyes. He didn't waste any time on quickly regaining his dominance over him.

"Wipe that look off your face! You look like a mad dog!"

The red hue that was painted over Claude's vision ceased and his eyes softened. He gave an almost dumb-founded look to his father.

His father scoffed.

"Clean yourself up and meet me at the cathedral…" He threw a cloth at him "…God knows you need even more council before the day is done."

He ignored his father's last comment while the adrenaline that fueled Claude's veins left his rapid beating heart, only to leave a new founded malignant cold in its wake. An invasiveness that he had never felt before. It didn't take long for it to settle into every cell of his body.

His callousness was rapidly evolving.

Claude masked any trace of his "disrespect" and spoke with a voice of impersonated humility.

"Yes father."

Claude watched his father leave and begun to clean the venom off his skin.


End file.
